Page 123 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

We smiled at each other while the phone rang. Lost in our own world, it was moments like these I treasured, when time stood still for us. Then a loud knock on the bedroom door had us stepping away from each other. Matt tenderly stroked my cheek with the back of his hand before moving off to see what George wanted. I glanced at my reflection, undecided over my appearance. Don’t get me wrong, I looked hot. The blue satin dress was stunning. The Kashmir sapphire jewellery gracing my ears, neck and wrist; a gift from Matt, was exceptional in its beauty.

I stared at myself and pondered how much I had changed. It was May, a little over a year ago Matt had stormed into my life and saved me from certain harm. Dr Brown had asked me once in a session if the fact he’d rescued me that night in the alley had given me a skewered perception of the man he was. I hadn’t appreciated her question and told her so. She’d smiled at me and wrote something in her notebook. One day I would break into her office and steal it! But back on point, she mentioned the possibility that our relationship was based on an unhealthy white knight syndrome foundation; that the intense circumstance of our initial meeting had cemented our personal perceptions of each other and we adhered to our given roles. Matt, the knight; and me the damsel. I had politely queried how long ago she’d graduated from Psych school and whether she was up-to-date on current counselling techniques. Dr Brown had written something else down when I asked the question. Huh. Mattwasmy knight, but I wasn’t some person forever in need of rescuing; and Matt didn’t believe it was his job to protect me from all the ills in the world. We were a happily married couple who struggled to spend enough time together, like every other married couple out there. I sighed out loud. Therapy sucked ass.

“Poppet, we should be leaving now. Are you ready?” Matt called from the bedroom.

“Coming.” I grabbed my clutch and hurried out the closet, remembering to turn off the lights on my way out. I was getting much better.

Matt smiled as I walked over to take his outstretched hand. “Best behaviour tonight.” he warned.

“Come on,” I muttered, embarrassed that he wouldn’t let me forget the last function we attended. “How was I to know he was a Conservative MP? My comments were totally acceptable.”

Matt chuckled under his breath and led me out our bedroom. “Just steer clear of any political conversations. You tend to get very opinionated during those discussions.”

“I’m not going to stand silent when someone starts spouting a load of-”

“Poppet,” Matt squeezed my hand gently. “You’re highly intelligent, but sometimes,”

“What?” I jumped on it immediately.

Matt exhaled loudly. “Sometimes you speak without thinking, I adore that trait, but it can be taken in the wrong context at times.”

“You look nice.” I changed the subject quickly. The MP had given me the evil eye for the rest of that night. Maybe I should try and filter my words. Heck, who was I fooling? Shit just came out on its own accord

“Thank you.” Matt hurried me along and soon we were in his new car heading towards Knightsbridge. It was a Bugatti, and he’d bought it on a whim. I told him it was disgusting the way he spent money, only after he said I wouldn’t be allowed to drive it. He had made an off-hand comment about my driving skills and I had secretly vowed to take it out for a spin the next time he was away on business.

I knew what Matt was up to though. The past few weeks he’d been dropping subtle hints about property values and prime real estate in certain parts of London. Knightsbridge for one. I was adamant we would not be moving. The invitation to tonight’s private ball at one of his associate’s home seemed a tad convenient to me.

“How does this thing work?” I was fiddling with what I assumed to be the audio system. “Does it have an interface I can use? What’s this button for, hon?”

Matt stopped at the lights and placed my wandering hand on his leg. Patting it lightly, he said, “I’d rather have you talk to me than listen to music, poppet. Tell me what’s been going on at your studio.Do you have a concrete date for opening night at The Royal Ballet?”

“Yep. A week after your birthday. Um, what do you want for your birthday? Your mom called me. I think she’s planning something big.”

Matt’s jaw tightened in displeasure before he said, “All I want is to spend the day with you in front the telly watching scary movies.”

Ok. Something was wrong.

“Are you dying and haven’t told me yet?” I teased as the lights changed and the car surged forward with a burst of speed.

“You are so impertinent.” Matt retorted. He flashed me a sidelong grin while I traced circles over his thigh.

“What’s your friend’s name again?” My hand inched higher.

Matt watched me out the corner of his eyes. “Franklin, and if you continue on the course you’re heading, I’ll need to pull over or risk crashing the car.”

I decided to be good, didn’t want him crashing this beast before I had a chance to take it for a spin. “Franklin? Is he the one who invited us on that ski trip?”

“Yes, a very good friend of mine. Shame we couldn’t go, maybe next year.”

I bit my tongue. Matt was delusional if he believed he would get me on the slopes. “Will Bella and Nathan be there tonight?” I asked curiously.

I hadn’t really spent any one on one time with Bella since my in-laws’ anniversary party. We’d spoken a lot on the phone but never could arrange a time to meet up outside the required parties we both attended. We were the hard-working, not solely trophy, wives. I liked our little club. Maybe I should let Hannah become a member, she was my sister-in-law after all. And although shetechnicallydidn’t work, she played a background role in some of the decision-making concerning Bradley Industries. Hannah was just as smart as her brothers.

“Without a doubt.” Matt informed me. He was really putting his foot down and I couldn’t blame him. The car was built for speed. “We should host a dinner party sometime soon. I’ve been quite lax in the social calendar.”

My snort wasn’t ladylike. It was bad enough attending these things, now Matt wanted us to host them?

“There are certain expectations,” he stated coolly, probablysensing my reticence. The snort had been eloquent. “You don’t want us becoming social pariahs.”

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